ReAnimation
by MujakiX
Summary: Taylor Hebert's life is misery. He can't seem to escape the antics of his former best friend, he's become the school pariah, and no one is willing to stick up for him... until the day he gets powers. Now, like fate, Taylor is destined to live through interesting times, because while becoming a hero may seem like a dream, there is a price for everthing... a Genderflip Worm AU.
1. Wake 1-1

_(_ _ **A/N:**_ _I should be writing the next chapter to Absolution, but after reading the excellent Audreyii-fic story Boys With Girlfriends recently, a potentially excellent/terrible idea came to me... genderflipped Taylor. Aside from Taylor being an excellent unisex name to begin with, I started really thinking about how dude!Taylor might be different from canon. His/her trigger event is going to be markedly different, as are the reasons for it, but the sheer number of butterflies that result from Skitter being a teenage boy are so juicy that I couldn't pass this up. Thus, I present Reanimation..._

 _...here we go.)  
_  
\- Wake 1.1 -

"Taylor, time to wake up!"

It would be easy, I think, to just roll over and play sick. _I'm too sore, my stomach is bothering me, Emma ate my homework...  
_  
Actually, I doubt the last one would fly. Madison probably copied my paper and then burned it or something. Ugh.

Hmm... something smells good. Salty, with a tinge of protein curling and browning, fat popping and tiny splatters all over the kitch-

- _shit, I have to keep track of that.  
_  
It was too easy to rely on what I can sense now. What I can feel, what I can _see..._ I kind of pitied Madison, given the surprisingly thick layers of makeup she uses to try and look less 'cute' and more 'sexy'. Not that it helps, of course, though smelling foundation for the first time was a weird experience. It explained why she never did much in gym class. Emma was frustratingly perfect, as usual, with good skin (though she liked to show off a bit too much of it most days) and a taste for higher end cosmetics and lotions whenever she did use them. Sophia usually went without any accoutrements save deodorant, but she was an athlete, which made sense. She _could_ be good looking if she wanted, but her perpetual sneer and unfortunate personality killed any hint of attractiveness she may have had. I didn't see Sophia so much as I _smelled_ her, the particular scent of chlorophyll and dirt from the outdoors clinging to her like a shadow, along with sweat and a faintly pleasing musky odor that...

...okay, I'm not going there right now. Especially not this early.

With a _groan_ , I dragged myself out of bed and pulled on some pajama pants (and a tank top after a moment's thought, even if the cold didn't bother me so much lately). Plodding downstairs, I could _hear_ a series of cracks followed by the sound of metal against plastic... must be a special occasion for scrambled eggs and bacon. I usually grabbed a muffin or three before dashing out to catch the bus in the mornings.

"Did you sleep well, sweetie?" Mom poked her head out from the kitchen doorway, wearing a fluffy purple bathrobe and mixing bowl in hand.

"Yeah."

I'm pretty certain Mom rolled her eyes at me as I trudged over to the fridge to pull out my latest experiment - we had an unusually warm weekend here in Brockton Bay, so I decided to clean out an old jug, grab a couple of stray tea bags, and made a gallon of sun tea.

 _Mmm... caffeinated convenience._

Glass of tea in hand, I took a seat and waited to start feeling a bit more alive. Mom was already setting the table, a plate of perfectly scrambled eggs, strips of streaky bacon, and toast in front of me before I could protest, "I could have served myself, Mom."

"It's a treat, Taylor," She said as she ruffled my hair, "We can't live on Olympia's all the time, even if you get to bring the day-old pastries home after work."

 _Well, maybe Mom couldn't live off of Olympia's for eternity,_ I thought. But ever since... that day, I had been almost ravenously hungry. All the time. It was a stroke of good fortune I happened to be wandering the Boardwalk a few weeks ago and saw Mr. Columbu struggling to load a pallet of bread loaves into his van. One good deed (and a question about the 'Help Wanted' sign in his window) later and I was gainfully employed prepping ovens and loading catering boxes for a few hours every night. It was something to do to keep my mind off of the bullshit that was Winslow, a place to make a little bit of extra coin, and not eat my mother and I out of house and home. Not bad for a skinny fifteen year old.

And it gave me a bit of time for my... side project.

"There's plenty more where that came from!" Mom's laughing shook me out of my reverie. At my clueless look, she just pointed to my plate.

Empty already. How about that.

-

A post-breakfast run was always good for clearing my head, even if it wasn't doing as much for me nowadays as it used to. _Hmm... that might be something to think on._ Even better was a post-run workout in the backyard. I had cobbled together a weight set from empty paint cans, bags of sand, and a rope draped over the thickest branches of a sturdy oak tree for pull-ups. Maybe it was cheating a bit... between my powers, taking gym class every other day at school, and my homemade gym I was able to push myself for the first time since the beginning of January. I hadn't found a hard limit to my stamina yet during my morning runs, but I _could_ push myself harder and faster in my own backyard. The paint cans went from halfway filled with sand, to full, to filled with rocks and a bunch of ball bearings I had bought with my first paycheck in a little over a month. I had a 50 pound bag of sand I used to walk back and forth across the yard, but that had grown increasingly easy so I shelled out for a 100 pound bag to transition to soon. The ropes served a dual purpose - I had perfect balance now, so I had taken to trying pull-ups after basic rope climbing became a joke. I could do twenty of them in a row before it started getting difficult, so I would call that progress. Not to mention it was fun just trying out goofy shit now and then, especially since I could always land on my feet if I screwed up. Swinging from the rope like Tarzan had been a hoot, though I hadn't realized I had built enough momentum to accidentally smack into the house and fall off the rope. I'm just glad Mom had already taken off for work by that point.

I _did_ manage to nail a Superhero Landing when that happened, though.

Powers are... strange. My senses were always dialed up to eleven unless I actively reined it in, though they seemed to naturally dial down when I was trying to fall asleep. I was stronger. A _lot_ stronger than I was before, though in fairness a stiff breeze could have blown me over before Christmas. My strength didn't seem to translate directly into size, though... I was still a beanpole, though I _am_ a lot more toned than before. My clothes fit me better, courtesy of the hint of a gut I had developed evaporating almost overnight and my shoulders broadening just enough to fill the t-shirts and hoodies I favored. The weirder stuff, though, I hadn't tested but a couple of times. After seeing myself... change... for the first time, I could never _not_ be aware of my body now. Of the chitinous plates growing just beneath my skin when I got stressed or riled up, of the odd loss of sensation when the trio of not-quite-eyes burrowed back into my forehead when I turned back into myself. Or the exceedingly odd feeling of extra arms waiting to bud from underneath my normal set...

At least I wouldn't need a costume.

 _ding-ding-ding!_ The egg timer started ringing so hard I had to dash over to the back porch to catch it before it fell and shattered. My morning zen interrupted by the worst possible thing.

Time to get ready for school.

-

Winslow High School was a black hole of garbage and I'm not sure what was worse - that it was a shithole or the fact that everyone _knew_ it was a shithole. An ugly cube of brick swallowing a whole city block, I suppose it could have been worse. There were rumors of gang activity in the hallways, though being both white and unimportant I never saw much of it. Teachers that either gave less than a damn about their jobs or tried way too hard - looking at you, Mr. "G" - and an administration that was just... just the fucking worst. Blackwell was gone, Mom had enough clout with the district for that, but her replacement was even worse. Mr. Herren was a weaselly looking man about my height with a greasy combover, a sizable paunch, and a shiteating grin made worse by his overt glances at the prettier girls in my class. And like Blackwell before him, he didn't do a damn thing about the perpetual thorns in my side.

"Oh, Taaaylor! I'm _so_ glad to see you." I froze at the sound of her voice - to anyone else it might have been a friendly greeting, but I'm too used to that cloying, kiddie voice like so much poisoned honey going down my throat.

Emma Barnes stood right in front of me, her arms crossed beneath her chest and a sickeningly sweet smile on her lips, "I've missed you lately. You get here right before the bell rings, you hide somewhere during lunch, you're out the doors as soon as we get to leave... what's the matter? Don't you miss me?"

"I'm not in the mood, Emma."

Her mouth pursed into a small 'o' before twisting into a fake pout, "Not in the mood for me? Since when? I remember the days when we would talk on the phone for hours."

"Just get out of my way."

"Watch what you say, you fucking pussy." I'm yanked backwards for a moment and I'm dangerously off-balance until I remember to _trust myself_ and stay on my feet. Unfortunately, I'm too slow to grab my backpack from Sophia, who has joined Emma's side and fixes me with a withering glare, "You don't get to talk to her like that."

"No, Sophia!" Emma's mock indignation set my blood boiling as she gives her a blatant stage _wink_ before walking up to me, "That was a mean thing to do. You should give that back."

Sophia gives a dark chuckle as she unzips my bag and starts rifling through my things, "Well, if Hebert wasn't such a little limp-dick _bitch_ , I might be willing to give it back."

Emma is up close to me now and without warning, I can _see_ everything... she's wearing the same green apple lip gloss I once said made her look like an old comic book superhero and a green blouse I'm sure I had bought her for Christmas a couple of years ago, though she's since outgrown it judging by the buttons she has undone up top. She catches me looking for a second and a genuine, if completely malicious, smile blooms, "Oh, Taylor? Like what you see?"

She reaches a couple of slender fingers up to her homemade décolletage and pulls it down another couple of inches, laughing when I step back and look away, "That's what I thought."

"I told you Emma," Sophia tosses my backpack at me, forcing me to scramble to catch all the loose notebook paper and supplies that go flying out. I'm on my knees gathering the last of my assignments when I realize Sophia is in front of me, that musky scent filling my palate before her elbow smashed against the bridge of my nose. Hard. "He's just a little bitch."

I lay on the ground for a minute until I hear the laughter around me die down as the morning bell rings.

Just another morning in Brockton Bay. Maybe it's time to move my side project up a little bit.

-


	2. Wake 1-2

\- Wake 1.2 -

The snickers in the hallway as I walked by didn't bother me as much as they used to. Not because of the laughing, really, but because of everything else that came _with_ the laughing - the grinding of teeth, the stench of hidden sweat, the partial fear that if anyone said or did anything to stop it _they_ might become a target as well. Not that I blamed them, really... I liked to think I was a better person than that. That if someone else was getting the shit kicked out of them by a track star, I'd step in. I'd get stomped, sure, but I'd do _something_.

Well, I might have gotten stomped before...

Hmm. I could smell something like... _fermented sugar, yum-_ ugh, not that again. I had to stop in the (mercifully) empty hallway for a second and reel It back in. My powers picked up _everything_ now and it was a little too easy to just look around at what I could perceive. I didn't lose track of things, exactly - I could follow anything or anyone inside my range - but it was such a new feeling the thought of it still made me a bit giddy sometimes.

I have _powers!  
_  
Not that they did me much good here at Winslow. Sophia's little stunt a few minutes ago was a perfect example. Even as close as she was- _andthatsmellthickrichyesss-_ I'm pretty sure I could have dodged her. But that would have eyes on me I really didn't want. It was bad enough taking a dive when she hit me, but even worse was having to roll with the impact of her elbow enough that she didn't break anything hitting me in the face. I think bonking my head against the concrete hurt me more than 120ish pounds of anger issues shaped like a teenage girl could have.

The worst I'd suffered was the beginning of a bruise on the bridge of my nose, which will probably have faded by the end of the day. Good thing too, because I knew Mom would march down here from the University with a head full of thunder if I told her what had happened. At least Sophia hadn't broken my nose.

Again.

Mrs. Knott's class was my first period of the day and it was usually a cakewalk. I didn't even bother going to my locker - that lovely fermented sugar scent wasn't quite so lovely when it was oozing out from the bottom seam and I knew that the one book and pile of scrap paper I kept stashed in there (to make it look as though I still used it) had probably been soaking in soda and juice for the better part of the weekend - and just walked in as she was calling roll. She glanced my way and just gave me a beleaguered sigh, "Tardy again, Mr. Hebert."

"I'm sorry, ma'am. It won't happen again." I had a much snappier retort on the tip of my tongue, but held it in exchange for bland courtesy instead. No sense alienating the one teacher who seemed to actually give a shit about my lot here in school. I'm pretty sure she hadn't marked me as tardy any of the other times Emma and her idiot friends found me in the mornings, otherwise Mom would have gotten a call by now. None of them (or any of Sophia's jock lackeys) bothered with something as academic as Computer Programming, making this a nice respite for what was coming later today.

Parahuman studies, Art, PE... each with someone I'd could go the rest of my life without dealing with. At least Mrs. Knott tried to make her assignments fun - today was trying to fix the code for 'Pong' in Python - and I could usually get them done pretty quickly. Meanwhile, I could spend the rest of the period 'resting', laying my head down on the desk and trying to people-watch with my other senses.

-

"Mr. G, I think we should do the assignment in groups!"

"You know what, Madison?" Mr. Gladly said with a big grin on his face, "That sounds like a great idea. Alright everyone, four to a group! You have thirty minutes."

Madison preened at the attention and craned her neck to stick her tongue out at me. The most childish of Emma's friends, I could usually count on Madison to do something either incredibly stupid (her spitballs until I decided to start sitting behind her) or very uncomfortable (constantly falling into me, usually with a nob of glue on her fingertips to go in my hair, or sitting up and practically bending over her desk with one of her friends waiting to snap a picture of me 'staring' at her ass). Based on her bright idea, I'm guessing it's going to be a bit of both today. Fantastic.

I glanced around the classroom to see what kind of options I had - Madison had already snagged two of her friends and was scanning the room for another member, several other people actively pulled their desks and bags _away_ from me, and off to my left were... Greg Veder and (judging by a certain lingering scent) his stoner buddy. Well, beggars can't be choosers.

"Hey Greg, mind if I pull up a seat."

Greg snapped his head up and away from some game on his phone at the sound of my voice, "Umm..."

 _Really, Greg?  
_  
"Don't worry, Taylor." I felt a slender arm snake around mine and I scowled at the brunette who had sidled up next to me, "You can work with us!"

I _heard_ a sigh of relief to my left and realized I didn't have much choice in the matter, "Sure thing, Madison."

-

 _That was too easy_ , I thought as I changed out of my gym shorts. I really expected... _something_ to have happened in Mr. Gladly's class that day. But it was strange... no 'accidental' spills on me or my things, no stealing my notes or homework for another class, just... classwork. She _was_ a personal space invader, though at least she had eased up on the makeup today - the cheap waxy smell of whatever was in her foundation didn't agree with me. She clung to my side any time I was writing notes and wrote down everything I had to say on a particular subject - the impact of Dragon's strike against the Slaughterhouse Nine five years ago, for example - though I did have to lean in and explain a few concepts she didn't quite understand.

Madison wasn't that bright, so she may have just had a shitty grade and needed the group work to raise it.

"Hey, freakshow!" I looked up and saw Jacob Herren, the school's champion shot putter and nephew to our fearless leader, glaring at me with two oversized members of the football team standing on either side of him, "I hear you like to perv on girls in class."

"About as much action a pussy like him is ever gonna get." The moron on the right chuckled.

Lefty just glared at me, his fists curling in anticipation and I could _hear_ the blood rushing through his veins with a sound like a running faucet in a huge, empty room, "That shit isn't right, is it Jake?"

"No it's not. I think we need to beat some respect into the little wuss. Maybe if he learns how to treat a bitch, he might get one of his own." Jacob snorted at his own lame joke and the stereo laughter of his buddies came about a half second too late to sound natural. I didn't like this one bit... the last time Sophia bribed Jacob to come after me, I spent Thanksgiving in the hospital. And I _can't_ fight them, not without outing myself somehow. There has to be another-

-the air was suddenly _thick, heavy with the scent of salt and something... dangerous._ I could hear all of their hearts racing, their cheeks reddening, their pupils dilating... they were ready for-

-ah, _fuck me.  
_  
"Get him!"

Lefty rushed me first, head down and arms out like I was a damn Quarterback, and I swung my backpack right into his temple with as little strength as I could manage. He dropped like a rock, the dull _crack!_ of his forehead smacking the tile floor echoing through the Men's Locker Room. Jacob and Righty just stared wide-eyed for a second before charging in themselves. Without hesitation, I grabbed my backpack, slung it over my shoulder, and took a running leap from the bench between the lockers to the top of them, making sure to not _quite_ make it all the way up. I feigned struggling to pull myself up top until I _heard_ the two idiots behind me scrambling over the bench to reach for my leg. As soon as I felt thick fingers closing around my ankle, I yanked myself all the way up and jumped over the other side, landing on all fours. _Perfect.  
_  
I _sprinted_ down the empty aisle and into the freshmen locker room, hopping up and running along the bench when a group of unassuming boys looked up to see what was going on. At the sound of cursing behind me, I kept going past the showers and out the exit near the bathroom stalls. I threw the door open and flew ass-over-teakettle into Sophia Hess. Because _of course_ she would be close by to take pictures of me getting my ass kicked.

"Whothethuckin-HERBERR!?"

Damn, I can't take all of them on _and_ make it look like an accident. Sophia untangled herself from me just as I came back to my feet, her nostrils flaring as a trickle of _mmmsweetthick-_ blood flowed from both sides, "Ah'm gonna thucking KILL OU, Herberr!"

That's it, I'm _done_ with this bullshit. I turned tail and ran out across the field, leaving Hess and the dumbass twins in my dust.

-

Olympia's was quiet tonight, which meant not a whole lot of work for me. I kind of loved the hole-in-the-wall nature of the bakery, though it was a bit bigger on the inside than the facade would suggest. There were a number of solid oak tables on the inside with corresponding chairs - _genuine Austrian oak,_ Mr. Columbu would often brag in his thick, Italian accent before chuckling at some joke only he understood - and the walls were covered in posters of hugely muscled men in speedos, all signed in black markers in the corners. There was a trophy case full of awards next to the cash register, including one heavy looking statuette featuring a brass caricature of a nude strongman holding an old-timey barbell.

"Taylor! Are you studying up there?" Mr. Columbu bellowed from the back room.

"Yes sir!"

I heard a grunt of acknowledgement and got to finishing up my math assignment - there was an ancient copy machine in the back room Mr. Columbu insisted I use after hearing about my homework mysteriously 'disappearing' whenever I wasn't watching it, so copies of my homework assignments ended up with me, faxed to the secretary's desk at school, scanned and emailed to whichever class had assigned it, and my mother kept the originals (just in case).

By odd coincidence, my GPA shot through the roof once my mother came onboard with Mr. Columbu's idea.

I put away my supplies and headed back to make my copies when Mr. Columbu gave me a strange look. He marched right up to me- _brutcolognelikeDADsardinesmmmavocado-_ and looked up into my face. He was a short man, almost a whole head shorter than I am, but he was broad and solidly built despite his age. Those sharp eyes focused right on my nose. _Oh shit...  
_  
"What is this?" Mr. Columbu demanded, his finger pointing so close to my nose I nearly went cross-eyed, "Why are you fighting? You go to school to learn!"

"Mr. Columbu, sir, I wasn't fighting."

This was apparently the wrong answer because his lips thinned a bit before replying, "Oh, some other boy decided to hit you?"

I folded under his gaze, looking away before mumbling, "It wasn't a boy."

Mr. Columbu's eyes narrowed for a moment before his whole expression softened, "Ahh... it's not good to hit a _bambina_ , yes?"

"No, sir."

He put a firm hand on my shoulder and guided me back into the cafe, locking the front door and drawing the shades before sitting down next to me, "How long?"

I think of _Emma in a green blouse, ice cream on her nose, movies on the couch with Anne, Mom holding me when I cried because Dad diedandEmmawasn'tmyfriendNEVERmyfriendandSophialaughing-  
_  
"Eigh-nineteen months, now."

Mr. Columbu put his hands on my shoulders to calm my shaking - _when had I started shaking? -_ and looked me right in the eyes, "Taylor, you're a good boy. You're a good worker. You have a wonderful _madre_. What you need-" He raised his fists to eye level like a boxer, "is _this._ "

He pointed up to a black and white poster above the front entrance featuring a kid not much older than me wearing boxing gloves, "I grew up with nothing. From nowhere, in the mountains. All I had was what I could make with _these,_ " Mr. Columbu brought his fists together for emphasis, "My _madre_ would hear nothing about it. 'You'll be a brute and do nothing like all the other brutes!' She'd say. But I saw my ticket out and I took it."

"So _take it_ , Taylor. And say hello to your _madre_ , yes?"

-

Mom wasn't happy when she saw my fading shiner, but I managed to keep her from heading to the school to murder Herren in the morning. I gave her $50 for part of the grocery bill - almost forcing her to take it, as always - and when she retired to her room to go to sleep, I followed and lay in bed for a few minutes. Thinking.

I've had my powers for more than a month now. A month of daily beatings rendered futile. A month of seeing and smelling the fear, sweat, and _pain_ of everyone who went to Winslow. A month of really _feeling_ what other people were like, hints of what they felt in their body language and the- _wonderfullovelytasssty-_ scents they made. Before Christmas, there was a totem pole, a pecking order at Winslow with me sitting at the bottom. So toxic even the other social outcasts wanted nothing to do with me lest Emma sic Sophia on them. But after the first day back...

I looked at my hands, clear even in the dark. Mr. Columbu was right... I could _make_ something with these.

So I closed my eyes and _opened_ my senses completely - _rustwaterdumdumDUMDUMcreeeeakbreakfastsoundslovelychuffchuffchuff-_ and focused as much as I could to the bedroom down the hall.

- _dumDUMdumDUMdumDUM_ -

And with a slow, steady heartbeat I knew Mom was finally asleep. _Good...  
_  
The first change was always the same - I felt an odd pressure right between my eyebrows as three dark bubbles pushed their way through my skin. Like flipping a switch, my world was suddenly awash with pulses and waves, my vision enhanced with tints of violet and green. As soon as I opened my eyes, I felt them bulge forward slightly before the darkness in my bedroom evaporated I could _see_ everything, from the thick grains of the ancient stucco ceiling to the wood grain of the door frame, nothing was hidden from me now. I could _hear_ the _pop-pop-pop_ of my spine lengthening and the chitinous plates folding out along my shoulders and chest, the skin of my arms hardening into something like armor. I sat up as cautiously as I dared, hoping the bed didn't strain too hard with my new weight, putting my newly-armored legs over the side and onto the ground. I was pleased that despite my size - I was already a tall kid, but I had to be about a foot taller than normal now - there wasn't so much as a lazy _creak_ from the floorboards. Curious, I raised my foot off the ground and tilted it towards my face, noticing that I was both stupidly flexible and the soles of my feet were oddly padded, almost like the feet of a dog but thicker and rougher. My hands were an inky black, covered with tiny plates of organic chain-mail, and each finger was tipped with a wicked-looking claw. Once I felt the change finish, I padded over to my door to examine myself in the mirror.

I looked... terrifying, with eyes that glowed an spooky orange around a somewhat normal pupil. In my sight, I was a rainbow of color, an oil slick brought to technicolor life with every shade complementing the other. To a human's sight, I was mostly black and green, my armor covered in speckles of black in relief to my almost normal looking hands (until closely scrutinized). Likewise, my face was mostly human until you got up close - I looked older, with a stronger jaw framed by a 'strap' of armor that circled my face from chin to hairline, my bizarre eyes alight with bio-luminescence, ears that didn't quite exist anymore aside from what amounted to oval holes on either side of my head covered with more of that organic plating, and shoulders so broad I could have probably matched or even exceeded the men in those old posters at Olympia's.

"Perfect," I said, my voice deepened with an odd buzzing quality, "Time to go do something heroic."

-

 _(_ _ **A/N:**_ _A couple of notes - I hope Taylor's power was descriptive enough. His senses are one of the things that are always on, so he keeps getting his train of thought interrupted by the sensory equivalent of_ 'Ooh, squirrel!' _from time to time. For reference, my mental picture of r63!Taylor is Finn Wolfhard... who happens to conveniently be the correct age, height, and build for the beginning of this story. As for his changer form, think of a cross between Semi-Perfect Cell from Dragonball Z and the Martinfly creature from The Fly II. Thank you and I appreciate the attention you folks give this little dog-and-pony show of mine.)_


	3. Wake 1-3

_(_ _ **TW:**_ _Trigger event happens here, folks, so this is a literal trigger warning. Violence and implied violation, so be warned. Nothing is explicit, but for those of you who like the story but don't want to see what happens, stop reading at the 'one month ago' header. Here we go.)_

\- Wake 1.3 -

 _nineteen months ago_

 _"No, Alan, that's not the issue here and you know it. My concern is my son going over to your house to check up on his friend and coming back with a broken nose! Tell me-" Mom clammed up for a second, but I could see her brows furrow through my tears, "-excuse me,_ what _did you just say?"_

 _I was hunched over on the couch, holding a tea towel over my nose and trying desperately not to think about-_

 _"Emma's had a bad time!? Are you kidding me, Alan?"_

 _Emma couldn't have meant it. It didn't make sense... I-I-I wasn't even gone for that long! It was an art camp... Mom had connections at Amherst for a jewelry-making program and was able to get me into an open slot despite my lack of portfolio - I didn't realize that whatever I hadn't given to Emma Mom decided to keep in a portfolio of her own. I made bracelets for us and saw a particularly pretty piece of jade in the scrap pile... it matched Ems' eyes so well I had to use it. She didn't like wearing green until recently for some reason, but I really thought she would have loved the necklace I made with it. The chain was a little bit of real gold we got to see the Metallurgy Professor smelt in the Hot House, but I was particularly proud of the clasps - I made them myself, scraping the mold for it for days, fitting it snugly around the stone. My first bit of real jewelry, more than the sketches I made in the years before. I thought it was beautiful. I didn't even see where that other girl had thrown it._

 _Maybe she didn't think it was good enough._

 _"-you know Taylor didn't do anything of the sort! Are you really telling me you're going to trust some random girl Emma's only known for a couple of weeks over the boy you've known his whole life? For Emma's whole life?"_

 _But how? You don't just know someone for years and then they disappear when you need them the most, not unless something happens to-_

 _oh._

 _Dad._

 _"-bet your sorry_ ass _I'm coming to talk to you about this! We'll finish this discussion later, Alan. I have a son who needs help and I intend to get it for him. I suggest you do the same for your daughter."_

 _There was a hard sound, plastic-on-plastic, and my mother stormed into the room. When I looked up, she froze, "Oh, baby..."_

 _We both had tears in our eyes._

* * *

I wasn't certain what to expect when I went out tonight - maybe a purse snatcher or some small-time thieves breaking into one of the many little stores along the Docks - but dodging bottles, bricks, and the occasional _dumpster_ in an alley while keeping a Gollum-wannabe from diving into a pile of garbage to form the filthiest armor on the face of the Earth was _not one of them._ I grabbed the little troll by the ankle and tossed him up the fire escape before my feet were swept out from under me. Again. I went sliding down the alley and _slammed_ into the dumpster I had previously dodged so hard I see stars for a second.

"Ha! I got him. Someone go grab that robot-looking shit heel and bring him over so I can teach him some fucking manners!"

That would be Skidmark, wielder of the world's dumbest superpower - he can make what amounts to a conveyor belt made of energy and then layer it so anything slides in the opposite direction. Of course, I'm literally head over heels trying to pry myself out of a Me-shaped dent in the side of a city dumpster, so I'm thinking my power isn't exactly hot shit either at the moment.

"I'll get him, boss." I don't immediately recognize the voice, muffled as it is within a walking mountain of brick, assorted rubble, and a shower curtain as a 'mask', but I'm pretty sure it's the world's dirtiest hobbit somewhere in there. He reaches down and grabs _me_ by the ankle and-

-huh, so that's what a bird's eye view looks lik- _CRASH!  
_  
"How does that feel, bitch! Not so fucking funny now?"

On the plus side, I'm upright again, the metal bars of the fire escape were bent around my seemingly impenetrable armor. On the down side, I still can't set foot on the alley itself - Skidmark covered every square inch of it in a pale blue haze and not even my enhanced equilibrium can stay standing. Mush, on the other hand, is either immune to the effect or just plain heavy enough by now for him to shrug it off. I didn't have a game plan for this when I decided to go out tonight and now I'm paying for it. The trash goblin was coming closer, his _sweatbloodooohsosalty-_

Wait a second, I can do more than just throw people and punch things.

Aside from the one-sided beatings I got in school and the... I don't even know _what_ it was today (aside from royally pissing Sophia off), I had never been in a real fight before. I've tried to _defend_ myself, but that's never worked out in any meaningful way. I know my power can make up for a lot - being really strong and durable probably offsets my piss-poor punching form and my flexibility and reflexes help my inexperience - but making plans? _Thinking_ my way out of a problem? That's all me.

I look down at my hands and close them into _fists._

Yeah, I can do that.

* * *

 _thirteen months ago  
_ _  
"Taylor, sweetheart, I need you to do something for me," Mom came in with a frozen bag of peas wrapped in a towel, carefully removing the old one from my face and replacing it as she spoke, "I need you to be honest with me. The pictures... the pictures don't look good."_

 _My jaw was so swollen I could barely talk... if I had thought Sophia smart enough for it, I might believe that part was_ planned _, "w-what pics, mm?"_

 _Mom bit her lip before pulling out a cell phone - someone had taken a picture of me trying to look around Madison in Mrs. Evans class, but the angle made it look like my face was pointed right at her butt. Even the act of me waving my hand around to get Mrs. Evans' attention didn't look innocent at all - for all the world it looked as though I was winding up to slap her on the rear._

 _"miz evans. l-likes to w-w-walk. at-t-tention, mm"_

 _"And Madison? What happened?"_

 _I had brought her over in September, thinking maybe, maybe I had made a new friend. She was a bit young looking, but she was my age and after having only had Emma, Anne, Dad, and Mom for so long I was so happy to have met someone new. Madison was a little spacey sometimes, but she meant well and Mom had really liked her. When her folks had come by for Thanksgiving, they had brought pies and stuffing and Mom and I had cooked for the first time in a long while. They seemed so nice too..._

 _"i t-told her. i-it wasn-wasn' wat it look-d like"_

 _I thought as hard as I could. Did I miss something? Did I make her mad somehow? Why? Why had she-_

 _"s-she_ laughed _, thought i-it was funny, was f-fine"_

 _"Funny? Funny how, Taylor?"_

 _Some other girls had pulled Madison aside after class, showing her something on their phones - likely the picture Mom had seen - while I waited in the hallway to walk her to class. Had they said something to her when I wasn't there? That couldn't have been it..._

 _"she j-jus laughed, said it wa-was nothin' no worry"_

 _"And then?"_

 _I tried, but fresh tears threatened to start flowing when I remembered walking to the bus stop, "foo-ball guys, f-five of 'em, said i wass a perv, n-nee to man u-ugh"_

 _My entire face felt like it was on fire and I adjusted the ice pack, trying to cover the whole side of my head where-_

ding!

 _Mom looked over to the coffee table at my phone's text alert. I pointed at it and without asking Mom brought it over to me. It was from Madison._

 _"t-t-'ell me wha i says, mm?"_

 _She slid the alert up and I could kind of see a white blur in the reflection of her glasses, followed by a weird blur of color that must have been a picture. Madison liked to send me random pictures she found on the internet - pictures of cats, descriptions of the weirder capes out there, stuff like that - so maybe she had sent me something, "mm, wha 's it?"_

 _Mom's eyes were stuck in some weird halfway point between sadness and utter fury in a way I hadn't seen from her since..._

 _She turned my phone to face me, bringing it close enough to my eyes I could see it without my glasses. It was a picture of Emma, Sophia, and_ Madison _._

 _They were laughing._

 _My phone_ dinged _again_.

 _ **GET WELL SOON**_

* * *

Mush was looming just below me, close enough to reach up and slap me out of my lookout.

He wasn't going to have the chance. I looked right into his center mass _and saw empty garbage, bottles, mmtastysugarsweatFOUNDYOU._

I yanked myself free of the scaffolding and dove right on top of the ten foot tall mountain of waste that enveloped Mush like a diseased blanket. He reached long, simian arms up to get me, but he didn't have the fine motor control to pry me loose, nor did he have the mass in his limbs alone that let him throw me across the alleyway. I dug through his garbage shell like it was so much wet paper - hell, some of it probably was - and my claws shredded the impromptu aluminum shielding he had shifted from other parts of his covering. My eyes held tight on the shimmering red blob I could see _through_ the pile of refuse, and the fear radiating off of him was positively _intoxicating_. I had dug a tunnel through a monster and wouldn't leave until I-

-my hand closed around a tiny wrist, "Found you."

With a mighty heave, I pulled Mush loose from his shell and leaped onto the wall of the closest building just as the pile of garbage collapsed without his power to hold it together, barely noticing that I was _sticking to the wall_. Instead, my focus was on the pink-skinned little man squirming in my grasp. I raised my arm and pulled him up so we were face-to-face, his beady eyes suddenly nervous as my multi-hued gaze fell upon him.

"W-what are you gonna do to me?"

"Hmm," I tilted my head, looking past him at the alley below until inspiration struck, "I think I'll put you where you _belong_."

I _leaped_ off of the wall, flying further than when Mush had tossed me himself, landing at the mouth of the alley just beyond Skidmark's range alongside the dumpster the Merchant leader had pushed my way earlier in the fight. With my free hand, I grabbed the corner of the dumpster and lifted it clean in the air, turning it upside down to empty the contents, "What do you mean where I belo-HEY!"

As soon as the dumpster was free of debris, I tossed the smelly cape inside and with a single, flowing movement turned the dumpster _upside-down_ , trapping the goon inside. As small as he is and without anything to add to his mass, I doubted there was any way he could get out on his own.

A bottle smashed fruitlessly against my leg and I turn my gaze down the alleyway Skidmark is still there, but all his bravado is gone. Still, once he notices that I've noticed _him,_ he cracks a smile full of rotten teeth, "Oh, you think you're hot shit, huh! Well, you bug-eyed fuck, you better run before I decide to shove my switch up your ass!"

He pulls a switchblade out of his belt and snaps it open, that feral smile on his lips even though I _hear his heart thudding against his rib cage_ and smell _sweetdelicioussweattearssoscared-_

I walk right up to the hazy bands of energy along the ground - Skidmark must have layered more of them down when I was dealing with Mush, because the crackles and sparks have gone violet and the remains of Mush's shell are scattered around me. I give him a wan smile of my own before walking over to one of the buildings walling off the alley. I put one clawed hand against it and _push-_

-ah, there it is. The oddly ribbed flesh between the tiny plates of armor on the palm of my hand catch with tiny hairs that I couldn't see before, but can certainly _feel_ now, and I pull myself up onto the wall and crawl up the corner like it was nothing. I can see his eyes widen with- _mmmsweatFEAR-_ fear as I crawl further up the building and onto the roof above. As soon as the pads of my feet touch the roof, I quietly run across it and position myself not _quite_ parallel with the junkie down below. I make sure to bring the _buzzing_ to the forefront when I speak again, "I won't be the one running, Skidmark."

* * *

 _one month ago_

 _I didn't think Winslow could get more miserable, but Winslow in December was a strong fucking contender. I came to school in layers, my last good pair of sneakers traded for an old pair of work boots that belonged to my Dad. They were a little loose, but Mom was dealing with end-of-semester bullshit at work I didn't need to bother her about shoes. She already does so much for us. For me._

 _I wish she wouldn't. She buys me books and they end up stolen or trashed. She buys me nice clothes and they either get ripped up by some jock asshole or stained with juice because Madison decided to be extra 'cute' that day. I had started keeping all my necessary notes and textbooks on me, even if it made my backpack stupidly heavy, because it was less likely someone would brazenly try and steal shit that way._

 _It did make it harder to run away, but that was a trade-off I was willing to make._

 _"Climb the rope, fag!"_

 _I hated gym. I hated the stupid fucking jocks that always managed to poke their heads in and say something that made everyone_ laugh _at me. I hated the other kids who thought those stupid jokes were funny. But most of all, I hated making a fool of myself in front of the school. That was the worst joke of all, because I could do that without any help. I reached up and slowly pulled myself up the rope, the sweat on my brow freely flowing into my eyes and_ stinging _but I didn't care I was going to make it up this rope if it-_

 _-something(some_ one _) grabbed my ankle and pulled._ Hard.

 _I came crashing down onto the mat, landing flat on my back and gasping for air. Out of the corner of one wet eye I saw..._

 _...Sophia. Of course it was Sophia. She gave me what she probably thought was a saucy wink and sauntered away._

 _"Hebert! What are you doing on the ground?" I heard Coach Murray jogging up to the rope station, "What happened here?"_

 _"Taylor fell, sir!" a cutesy voice - Madison - piped up from somewhere behind me, "He got up a few feet and just lost his grip."_

 _"Okay, get up Hebert. Hit the showers, you're done for the day."_

 _I don't know if it was mercy or just plain humiliation, but I'll take it. I dragged myself up and trudged towards the locker room, away from the giggles and the laughter._

 _I was already half changed out of my gym clothes when I realized the showers were on._ Huh, I guess I'm not the only one to get sent away. _I pulled the padlock loose and opened the door to grab my clothes and-_

 _-nothing was there._

 _Goddamnit._

 _I looked at the padlock in my hands and examined it - it didn't have any scratches or other signs of tampering. Maybe someone could have used a master key to open it up, but that was unlikely. I had seen the janitors break out the bolt cutters whenever the administration needed to get into an old locker, so I doubted anyone could have magically gotten inside. And I_ know _I was aware enough to put my clothes and backpack inside before heading to gym. Which meant..._

 _...ah, fuck._

 _I got up and walked around the aisles to where the shower stalls were. All of the showers were on, meaning I was going to have to look inside each one to find my undoubtedly ruined clothes, books, phone, and... and Dad's boots._

 _The last stall in the right side was the 'winner'. My clothes and backpack were in a neat pile, Dad's boots sitting on top. It would have been a nice presentation if the shower wasn't spewing cold water all over them-_

 _-I head a dull_ thwack _and my head was spinning. W-wha tha fuck?_

 _"HE'S HERE, SOMEONE GO GET HESS!"_

 _Rough hands grab me an-_ SLAP!- _wher am i?_

 _I try to move and oh i'm on the floor_

 _'s cold._

 _shorts why someone pulling no MY SHORTS_

 _"WHAT IS THIS SHIT, IT FUCKING STINKS?"_

 _"I DON'T CARE, JUST GET HIM INSIDE"_

 _pushhh an oh waters cold! i need my phone slipping all over_

 _wha?_

 _What is this trash oh it stinks why is it sticking? Bugs, heh_

 _"Is he laughing?"_

 _"I told you he was fucked up, pour the other one. I got the camera."_

 _heh bugs all over why do I smell blood what the FUCK?_

let me out LET ME OUT

 _"He's wriggling in here"_

 _"Then get your fat ass against the door! I'm trying to hook this shit up to the WiFi"_

 _"Huh, he's packing for such a skinny guy"_

 _"You think I give a fuck about that? He's weak, a fucking pussy. So I'm gonna treat him like one"_

 _weak why am I weak let me_ OUT.

strong. I need to be strong. Mom.

Ems.

Dad.

.

 **[Destination]**

 **.**

 **..**

 **[AGREEMENT]**

 **...  
**

* * *

 _( **A/N:** A quick reminder - if you leave a guest review, I can't reply to your questions! Full speed ahead...)_


	4. Interlude 1a - Rebellion

_-  
_  
 **Sophia  
**  
There was something... weird going on with Hebert and Sophia didn't like it one bit.

On the surface, things _seemed_ normal. Hebert was still a fucking spaz and ran at the first sign of trouble, Emma got her kicks watching him squirm for some reason, and Madison just seemed to find the whole thing funny, but there was something _off_ about it. And she knew exactly what it was.

Hebert was a cape.

Or at the very least a parahuman. That day in December was supposed to be the day she got that pussy out of Winslow forever - Emma had wanted to do _something_ to Hebert, to push him further than they had before. She didn't like it one bit. Not the idea, of course, since it was always good to make sure the sheep knew their place among the wolves. But Emma was stuck on Hebert something fierce and it fucking _bothered_ Sophia. Hebert was a _worm_ , a spineless little shit that made her want to throw up. How could one person be so weak? Any other guy would get worked up at the way Emma teased Hebert. Shit, she knew guys on the track team willing to kill for the chance to look down Emma Barnes' shirt and there were times when Emma had all but flashed him and Hebert didn't do a goddamned thing! Hell, he looked away most of the time and Sophia couldn't stomach it - Emma debasing herself for some... _boy._ Emma's plan was supposed to take care of that, get him to man up like she thought he would.

Emma's plan... was a nice idea. Sophia had a better one.

The bare bones were still the same - slip into the Men's Locker Room while Madison distracted that dumbass coach, _shift_ into Hebert's locker and take all his shit, stick it into one of the shower stalls and turn the faucets on (that little bit was Madison's contribution). Sophia had a little extra cash on hand ever since getting stuck working with The Wards (she was _still_ pissed about that bullshit), so she had bribed one of the second-string linemen to corner Hebert in the shower and force his ass into the stall until he fought back. It was a decent plan, but she didn't think Emma was really willing to go for the throat when it came to Hebert. Oh, Emma had laughed her ass off when she had convinced Madison to ditch Hebert way back when they started at Winslow, but that didn't end the way she wanted either - with Hebert in her face and _this close_ to screaming. Of course, Sophia had stacked the deck with the football team, counting on their...courtesy? Chivalry, something like that. Whatever the fuck it was... all to make sure Hebert didn't make it that far. No sense taking the chance the dipshit might actually snap and do something they'd regret later. Still, Emma wasn't willing to go all the way for this.

So she would... _help.  
_  
The tampons were something Sophia felt made a statement, like nailing some rapist fuck to a wall with his dick still out swinging for the BBPD to find. Hebert was so determined to be a pussy forever and he'd end up dragging Emma that way too, so that's the way she was going to fucking treat him. The day Winslow let out for Thankgiving, she threw on some dish gloves and went to every girl's bathroom in the school, gathering up every used pad and tampon she could find. Once she accomplished that much, she stuck them all in a couple of these giant garbage bags PRT Headquarters always had laying around and found a dusty corner in the school's old boiler room to let that shit _rot_ over break. Hell, she had even convinced Emma to wait until the last day before Christmas Break to spring the trap - with both Madison and herself in the same Gym class as Hebert, it would be the easiest time to do it. No muss, no fuss, and they would get off smelling like roses.

And Hebert would be fucking gone.

That's what should have happened, at least.

Sophia decided to change things up at the last second - rolling with her gut had served her well on the streets and something was telling her that it might be a bad idea to give Hebert the chance to fight back. It rankled her a bit to think about too hard... the whole point of this was seeing if Hebert would come out a survivor instead of just _existing_ like all those other sheep in the hallways of Winslow, content to let the _real_ predators walk the halls in their rightful place. It would make Emma happy if Hebert pulled through like she thought he would.

And that _bothered_ her. Just a bit. Just enough to wonder what the fuck would happen afterwards. Emma would never leave her, Sophia knew that much... but what if Hebert actually _was_ a survivor?

It didn't happen when she broke his nose the day she saw him the first time, walking the sidewalk to Emma's house looking like a scarecrow with long, wild hair, a big smile on his face and humming like... like some kind of _child._ Hebert wasn't a man. Fuck, he wasn't even a guy. He was a _boy._ A sheltered child who was never, _ever_ going to grow up and see the world for what it really was. It definitely didn't happen when Madison turned on him and got him labeled a pervert to everyone with a phone and a Myspace page. Fuck that noise.

He'd had his chance.

"Strip him."

"What?" Luke was the kind of guy Sophia knew wasn't going to make it to college ball. Shit, she doubted he'd even make it out of high school without getting drafted as dumb muscle by one of the local gangs, but she would deal with _that_ later on, "I ain't touching no guy's junk."

"For fuck's sake, I'm not telling you to fondle him! Just get his clothes off and stick him in the shower."

It should have been easy. Sophia went out and bought a cheap smartphone on a burner plan for the sole purpose of getting Hebert's skinny ass online for all to see. Once word got around of the little shit covered in blood and pads, there was no _fucking_ way he'd ever show his face at Winslow again and everyone could move on with their lives. Sophia had another guy, a sprinter named Nolan, on hand if she needed him. He had a thing for Madison and didn't even want any money to take part, so long as she put in a good word for him.

Which she _wasn't_ going to do, given the plan had gone straight to shit immediately because he hit Hebert with a sock full of quarters on the back of his _goddamned head_ and then proceeded to start slapping the shit out of him before Sophia intervened. He'd also screamed her name at the top of his lungs, so the dumb motherfucker was on her shitlist _twice_ thanks to this little stunt. Luke managed to get Hebert's shorts off and shove him into the shower, but somehow the skinny bitch was still lucid and trying to get out. The Plan was still salvageable, though, so she untied the garbage bags and the putrid _stink_ hit her square in the face, flies buzzing, maggots squirming and Sophia almost puked right there. As it was, her mouth was painfully salivating and she swore this was another bit of bullshit Hebert was gonna pay for, especially since he had stopped struggling and had started _laughing_. The boys started dumping the rancid shit into the stall as she readied the the phone to record-

And Sophia was somewhere else.

The world fell apart.

* * *

Hebert had come back and he was... _different.  
_  
Sophia was pissed as it was - she had avoided repercussions by the skin of her teeth, having come to with enough of her wits about her to drag herself into a different stall, _shift_ through the ceiling unseen to the Girl's Locker Room, and nearly pass the fuck out in a stall on that side. The cold water helped center her again and she was in the locker room with plenty of time to establish an alibi before they found Hebert and dragged his unconscious ass to the hospital. Emma had been _furious_ , angrier beyond anything she had seen before, but when Sophia herself ended up in the hospital later that evening (ostensibly for Panacea to give her a 'check up' after her episode) she had cooled down. In fact, by the beginning of January, she was positively ecstatic - Hebert would come back to school changed. _Better_ , she swore, _he'll be perfect._ Sophia didn't have the heart to tell her that Hebert was probably long gone, even if her own heart warmed at the thought.

But Hebert came back. And, if you weren't looking for it, nothing had changed. He was still a lanky reed of a boy, but...

His glasses were gone.

It didn't seem like a big deal, not really. A lot of the sheep at Winslow wore glasses or contacts, but Hebert had these coke-bottle monstrosities permanently affixed to his head. Except now they were gone. Panacea had been at the hospital that night and she was known for doing the occasional 'tune-up' when the stuck-up bitch was in the mood for it, so maybe Hebert had lucked out. But that wasn't everything... Hebert _moved_ differently. Before, he was gawky and uncoordinated, all limbs, elbows, and knees and the wimp always looked like a strong breeze could blow him away. But now... everything was cautious, like there was this ease of awareness in his movement. He moved like a _predator._ Sophia glanced over at Emma and there was this odd gleam in her eye, like someone who had gotten everything she wanted. She had dressed... weirdly today, wearing some godawful green shirt that was way too fucking tight on her, but Sophia knew that this was _her_ show. Besides, with a bit of prodding, she was sure _someone_ would be willing to knock an uppity sheep down a peg or two.

* * *

Console Duty was _bullshit_. Hebert's little rebellion earlier today had broken her fucking nose and she would be damned if he was going to get away with that. It put her on edge every time she got stuck behind the desk, manning a computer for hours at a time while the other so-called 'heroes' went out to fight crime and make a statement. Not that they were any good at it, the wusses. Always holding back, letting the roaches get away, never making a real _statement_ that The Wards were not to be fucked with. No, the PRT wanted them on a leash, ready to march out and play nice with the public. Family-friendly superheroes. It made her sick, thinking about how many leeches they just let waltz away rather than 'endanger' the JV team...

Huh. The BBPD was on the line and... what the fuck?

"Hey, is there anyone near the docks right now? I've got the BBPD dispatcher on the line saying someone has Skidmark and Mush on lockdown."

"Repeat that, Shadow Stalker?" She snorted at the disbelief in Aegis' voice, not that she felt any different.

"Skidmark. Mush. Some fucker strung them up next to the old Fishery."

"Language, Shadow Stalker."

"Whatever." Sophia hoped he could hear her eyes rolling, "Who's closest to the docks?"

"That would be me and Vista, I think." Clockblocker chimed in, and Sophia felt her eyes rolling of their own accord this time.

"Well, I don't care who it is, but one of you better get over there before someone comes by to let them loose."

It was an agonizing ten minutes before anyone got back on the line, "Um, Shadow Stalker? Can we get a team out here for pick-up?"

Sophia sat up to the edge of her seat at Clockblocker's voice - someone had actually gone out and put down two of the squirreliest villains in town? "Roger that. What's the situation?"

"Well... you know what, let me just send you a pic."

Sophia could barely believe her eyes, but the picture was no joke. Someone had fucking hog-tied Skidmark with _duct tape_ and left his junkie ass hanging upside-down from a lamp post. Directly beneath him was a freshly puke-stained dumpster that looked like it had been turned on its end, a giant dent on the front of it and a message scraped into the side.

BEWARE: ASSHOLE INSIDE  
DO NOT HANDLE WITH CARE

She couldn't help it - Sophia snorted and then winced at the pain lancing through her face. Somehow, someway, she knew that Hebert was going to _pay_ for this.


	5. Wake 1-4

\- Wake 1.4 -

* * *

I might have a problem.

This was the longest I had ever been in my armored form and I was... itchy? Yes, under my plates was this niggling sensation of _something_ , a bizarre tingle as though all my limbs had fallen asleep and were just now starting to wake back up. I had initially chalked it up to dealing with Mush - I did dig through a literal pile of garbage to get to its juicy junkie center, after all - but the feeling had lingered after I took care of Skidmark.

It was... odd.

My trip home was uneventful - for the best really, given that the closer I got to my house, the longer and more intense the itching became. I could still jump with the best of them, though, and cleared the fence in a single graceful leap, snagging one of my ropes to slow my descent. I had to go I through the back door rather than my bedroom window for a number of reasons, not the least of which was my... girth. Looking at myself in the glass of the window, I noticed that I was _bigger_. Almost a foot taller from where I started, unless I've suddenly become very bad at noticing details. The plates on my chest and shoulders were thicker, textured with odd striations I could have sworn weren't there before. My arms were almost sectional now with the same striated plating and small nubs that felt like the beginning of... spikes, maybe? My claws were longer, wicked sharp, and a tiny spike tipped each knuckle...

I need a real mirror.

Kneeling down, I reached beneath the rocking chair on the back porch for the spare key, the odd sensation of my claws retracting accompanying my search, allowing me to grip the tiny chunk of metal without shredding the wooden chair - something I was fairly confident I could do _by accident_ at this point. The itching sensation was back and was nearly unbearable now.

 _What the fuck?  
_  
I was so caught up in the weird changes to my body that I didn't notice the lights were on in the living room - light really having little meaning considering how much I can _see_ now, my vision adjusting on the fly for how much light was in any given area. Between the itching and the fascination with the fact I had built-in knuckle-dusters, I almost missed a _scent_. A very particular and important scent.

Lavender Vanilla. Bits of it tickled my nose and I realized something very, _very_ important.

My mother keeps a lavender vanilla candle in her room.

"Taylor, where have yo-OHMIGOD."

 _Crack_!

My armor plates split, steam and greenish fluid gushing out from the seams. I fell to my knees as my not-quite-eyes retracted back into my forehead, leaving me with a literal hole in my face until more of that strange ichor burst out of what was left behind. My claws flaked and fell away, the remains of my armor sloughing off like a cocoon and I opened my mouth, gasping for air. It wasn't painful, exactly. More like stretching a sore muscle, getting energy and circulation back into long ignored joints. The feeling of popping your back after sitting in a car for eight hours.

Satisfaction.

"Ahhh..."

"T-Taylor? Is that you?"

I looked up, the lenses of my formerly orange eyes sliding down my face as I emerged completely naked from the broken pile of insectoid chitin that was my Changer form, "Um... hi?"

Mom stared at me blankly, her mouth opening and closing with no words for just a second before she composed herself, her eyes growing wider and wider...

"What the _fu-_ "

* * *

 _one month ago  
_ _  
"Hey, kiddo."_

 _I... I knew that voice. Somewhere in the background, I... I_ heard lightbreathinghmmscrubsalcoholnomakeupooohcandyatecandyforbreakpeanutsstrawberrydelicious-

Beep! Beep! Beep!

 _"Taylor, Taylor! It's me, it's Anne!"_

 _The_ beeping _was so strong and loud and I tried to raise my arms and felt... tied, who's holding me, why am I_ TIED DOWN?

BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP!

 _I hear muttered cursing, smell_ MmmlipglossstrawberryImissedyouIKNOWYOU- _clanking noises and suddenly_ release _as strong hands grab my shoulders and-_

 _"Taylor!" A voice, female..._

Anne, _"Taylor, listen to me. It's Anne, it's me, kiddo. I'm here with you-" I_ felt warmtharmsaroundbreathingohhthatisniceIrememberyouImissyouEm- _"You're in the hospital, I'm here with you, breathe, Taylor. Please."  
_  
BEEP! Beep! Beep.

 _I opened my eyes and my vision was partially blocked by an unruly mop of blonde hair._

 _Anne._

 _I sighed as I felt the warmth and the touch and oh god I'm crying, "I missed you."_

 _There was a... shift next to me and I could_ feel _her smile without seeing it, her breath tickling my ear a bit as she made a sound halfway between a giggle and a sob, "I missed you too."_

* * *

I was sitting in the living room, freshly showered and in my pajamas, the giant pile of what _used_ to be my armor having been shoved unceremoniously out the back door - if it didn't degrade on its own soon, I might have a problem the next time I went out.

My mother was sitting on the sofa, a cup of hot tea in her hands as she studied me.

 _If_ I went out again.

"Taylor," Mom's voice was calm, steady in that artificial way I could _feel_ she was forcing herself to be, "I thought... I thought we had an agreement. If you were going to go out and... _do_ something with your powers, we were going to discuss it first."

She took a sip from her cup before continuing, "And about your powers... I know that your eyes got better, but I thought you were just strong? I know you've been pushing yourself recently, but-" Mom waved her arm in the general direction of the back yard, "- _that_ wasn't just strength or good eyesight. I don't even know _what_ to call it!"

"I can get _really_ strong?"

My mother raised an eyebrow at that, "I suppose 'getting really strong' may fall under that purview, but that's not everything, is it? You looked like someone tried to make a bodybuilder out of half of a giant cicada and half of a Cadillac."

That... is an accurate description, considering how I looked before I shed my armor in the absolute messiest way possible. I don't know if we'll _ever_ get that spot out of the hardwood floor, "It doesn't look like that normally. And-" I mimicked her arm waving towards the backyard, "- _that_ is new. I've never done _that_ before. The last time I used my armor, it just kind of... slid back inside me? Melted into my normal skin? _That_ was weird, even for me."

I closed my eyes for a second and _felt_ my heartbeat, slow and peaceful within. I _shifted_ for just a second and felt the beginning of new armor just beneath my skin. _Huh, cool.  
_  
"Did you get into a fight tonight?"

"Um."

My hesitation was apparently all my mother needed to see. She put her tea cup down and started rubbing her temples., "Taylor. You know what this means, right?"

Ah.

"The PRT."

Shit.

* * *

 _one month ago  
_ _  
"Where's Mom?"_

 _Anne was sitting back in the single chair the hospital saw fit to provide, her hair combed back into a loose ponytail, "She's talking with The PRT right now. They... they have a system. Something that tracks events that_ might _result in-"_

 _The PRT? I took a deep breath and_ smelled oldbloodsogoodnottoolongohnextdoorIcansmellohpissandshitandblood-

 _"Parahumans. They have a way to figure out who might be a parahuman."_

 _"Yeah." Anne pulled at her scrubs a bit before looking my way again, "It's supposed to be a secret, but Annette told me what happened. What's_ been _happening and... I'm so sorry, Taylor."_

 _I_ smell saltandtears _\- ugh, I can't have that happening all the time, "You didn't know?"_

 _"Dad didn't tell me anything," There was a bitter smile on her face as she reached over to_ hold _my hand_ ohsoftskinlotionusesthesameasEm- _"And Emma. She never said anything, even when I asked. Just that you stopped coming over and I was at school and barely heard from anyone and-"_

 _"Anne," My heart felt a little lighter for the first time since... well, in a year and a half, really, "I believe you. And I'm glad you're here."_

 _I did believe her. I could_ feel _her heart rate and how_ heavy _it got when she talked about her Dad and Em... her sister. Steady, strong with a slight increase as she became more and more upset._

 _No one can lie to me. Not anymore._

 _Anne smiled and for a minute I'm reminded of why she was my first crush. The first girl I ever looked at as... a_ girl _, really. College had been good to her, considering I still got a bit of a blush on my cheeks when our eyes met, "So why the scrubs? I've... not been in touch either."_

 _Her eyes brightened at the question and I felt her heartbeat quicken a bit in her excitement, "Oh! I've been accepted into the nursing program at UMass! It's the holiday now, so I applied as an aide to get some patient experience in and... well, I found you and Annette here."_

 _It was almost normal, the two of us chatting like the last few months had never happened. Seeing my mother's smile when she finally walked in, the two of us still talking, made the day a little less bleak._

 _For all of us._

* * *

Winslow wasn't nearly as foreboding as it used to be. I was used to the smells now, that ever present _scent_ of fear and loneliness bleeding from every person I passed. Boy or girl, skinny or fat, popular or not... it didn't matter. They were all the same, trying to survive with the sense that something _awful_ was going to happen, never knowing where it was going to come from. It would be easy to dismiss them... but they couldn't help it. Not really. It's _hard_ to exist when you feel like the entire world might get pulled out from under you, the vultures always waiting to swoop down and prey on the weak.

"Why the _fuck_ are you even here today, Hebert?" I _feel_ Sophia a heartbeat before I see her and I _move_ just a bit to the left, dodging her hand by a hair's breadth and smiling at her indignant squawk as she's thrown off balance when I'm not there to hit.

"School, studying, working hard so I can eventually get the fuck out of here." I said with barely an inflection to my voice, "What about you? Lose a fight to a door lately?"

Sophia's eyes widen at my words, her gaze both utterly furious _and_ hilarious given the gigantic foam bandage taped to the bridge of her nose. She swiped at me again, fruitless given her game was so easily thrown off. I might even have dodged that one _without_ my powers.

Why was I ever scared of this tool?

 _mmmlipglosslotionboughtitforvalentinesdayIREMEMBER-_

I'm distracted for half a second by Emma in the corner of my eye and Sophia catches the sleeve of my hoodie, forcibly dragging me to face her, "WHAT DID YOU JUS' SAY TO ME, HEBERT?"

I _see_ Sophia wind up and- _nostrilsflaremuskoohweLIKETHATheavydownstepmovedontmovewhattodo-_ and decide in that instant what I'm going to do.

I'm _tired_ of this bullshit.

She connects, my face _rolling_ with it enough so she doesn't break her knuckles against my bones.

I don't move an inch, the tiniest trickle of blood oozing out of the corner of my mouth where she connected. Her feral smile melts into shock at my non-reaction, "Ow."

Sophia yanks at my sleeve again and I roll into her, my shoulder planting firmly- _mmmsoftsheissofterthanshelooksfeelwarmheartracingnowsweetbloodmuskweLIKEIT-_ into her chest and pushing her away, bending low and letting her pull my hoodie off completely. She's off balance again, staring incredulously at the empty jacket in her hand as I stand up straight and look her right in the eye. Sophia is tall for a girl, but I've got a few inches on her yet and for the first time she looks... uncertain. It's almost alien compared to how I've seen her for the last nineteen months.

Nineteen months.

Nineteen. Fucking. Months.

I see _red_.

"I'm done."

She looks absolutely dumbfounded for a moment before her brows contorted in fury, an inarticulate roar of _rage_ escaping her lips as she lunges for me, tossing my hoodie to Emma as I start backpedaling to avoid her. It's a screaming, messy kind of anger, something I can feel washing over me in _waves_ as I scoot and back away from every punch, roll with a surprisingly agile side kick, and I smell _mmMDESPERATEWARMFEELHERHEARTMUSKEARTHWANTSYOUCANTASTEIT_ and finally let her grab me, her face inches from mine and every intoxicating _scent_ in the air leaving me giddy, "The fuck do you mean you're done? We aren't done! Not till I SAY we're done."

We had a crowd now, shouting and jeering, a powder keg in the truest sense. Emma was off to the side, her eyes wide and _mmmexcitedsmellssogoodmissyouWANTSyou-  
_  
"I said," My hands brush against Sophia's chest _mmwarmhot-_ reaching between her arms and I _pulled_ , slowly breaking her grip on me as that same uncertain look crossed her face again, "I. Am. Done. This whole thing? The fighting and you kicking my ass and all the bullshit you've done to me? It's over."

I _look_ at her face and _feel_ our wrists touching, her heartbeat erratic and... _somethingonedgeohohOHSHESJUSTLIKEUS-  
_  
We push apart at the same time, identical _feelings_ of surprise and... fear? Both breathing heavy, chests heaving, and something... odd passes between us.

She's a parahuman. _We're_ parahumans.

Behind her, _beyond_ her, I see Emma.

She's _smiling._


End file.
